"It's a funny thing about coming home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You realize what's changed is you."-From The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
A few weeks ago I was on the phone with my mom when she mentioned that my sister and her family would be visiting Seattle that weekend, which meant that everyone would be together - except for us. After hanging up, I turned to Rob and said, "If we left on Wednesday, we could be there by Friday...wouldn't that be a fun surprise?" I'm not sure that "fun" is the word that immediately came to his mind, but after pondering it for a day - and after trading in our Subaru for a minivan - we decided to go.
It was a mad scramble to get everything ready and we couldn't decide if we were fun and adventurous or just plain crazy (Alex was only 2 weeks old, after all). But thanks to the DVD player in the van and a leisurely schedule, we all enjoyed the drive. We also really enjoyed surprising everyone when they found out we were coming. It was wonderful to catch up with everyone, watch the cousins play together, and introduce Alex to the family. We avoided all of the crowded SeaFair activities and enjoyed lots of good food and conversation instead. Of course we wanted to stay longer, but were grateful for the time we did get to spend with everyone. (Remember, you're all welcome to come out HERE anytime!!!)
I had a favorite book when I was a little girl called The City Mouse and the Country Mouse, of which I'm reminded whenever we visit a big city. I could wax poetic about the beauty of Seattle for pages and pages - the velvety green hills, sparkling lakes, stunning glimpses of The Mountain - but I will spare you. On this trip, although I was still head-over-hills in love with my beloved Emerald City, I found myself noticing some of the drawbacks as well. I kept asking myself (and Rob), "Were there always this many people here before? Where are they all going? And in such a big hurry? Can there really be a large enough population to support this many stores?" After a few days of such ponderings I realized I sounded exactly like the "country mouse" from my childhood book. It was humbling, and I came home feeling so grateful for the life we have built here in our small town on the prairie. Sure it's cold, and we wish we could have our family close by. I do a lot of my shopping online and we have to be creative about finding things to do. But the kids can still ride their bikes around town, the commute is a dream, and we know half the crowd when we go to the Saturday Farmer's Market.I was full of dread when we moved here six years ago this month. I was leaving everything familiar behind and Rob knew what a big sacrifice and leap of faith it was for me. We turned north from Fargo at around 9:00 pm after three days of driving, and were stunned by the beauty of the surrounding fields at sunset. Everything was soft and glowing and peaceful. We will both always remember the moment when I turned to him and said, "It's so beautiful." Rob very rarely cries, but his eyes filled with tears to know that maybe we could be happy here after all. I may always be a city girl at heart, but I have changed, and maybe being a bit of a country mouse isn't so bad after all.
